


Prey

by grav_ity



Series: grav_ity plays dragon age origins [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 15:56:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17552675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grav_ity/pseuds/grav_ity
Summary: Alistair also learned something from the duelist. (Spoilers: Random Denerim Side Missions, Achievement Unlocked: First Knight)





	Prey

**Author's Note:**

> *waves*
> 
> WHAT THE HELL, YOU GUYS.

Alistair was so quiet on the way back to camp that Kentha worried she might have permanently damaged him. Yes, it had been a rash decision to take that particular approach with the duelist, and yes, she had perhaps been a little too free with Alistair’s person, but surely he trusted her enough to know that she would have stopped if he so much as blinked at her, and he hadn’t blinked. The only mercy was that Wynne offered no commentary on why they had disappeared, and the hound had merely been happy to see them when they returned, wagging his tail as he always did when Kentha approached him.

Upon their arrival at the encampment, several things called Kentha’s attention away from Alistair. By the time she had sorted everyone’s supplies and had a brief chat with Morrigan about their chances against Flemeth, Alistair had disappeared from his normal spot by the fire. Kentha didn’t much fancy following him into the forest in the dark, and was relieved when Leliana nodded in the direction of his tent. They usually slept in Kentha’s tent these days, so she wondered if this was Alistair’s way of saying he wanted some privacy, but it would be easier to have this talk now than in the morning, when it had settled on them, so she went in.

Alistair’s tent was narrower than hers, but taller. She could nearly stand up straight. It was nearly empty, save for the extra bedrolls they stored here now, and it was on these that Alistair sat, looking at her with an alarmingly unreadable expression on his usually open face.

“You can’t really knock on a tent,” Kentha said. “May I come in?”

“Of course,” Alistair replied, indicating that she could sit. 

There was a sharpness to his tone that hadn’t been there before. Kentha took a moment to decide what to say next, but he surprised her, and spoke before she could.

“Do women see me as prey?” he asked. “Something to be taken to bed and pet for a bit before being put to use? Do women enjoy that sort of thing?”

“Some do,” Kentha said, choosing to answer his last question first. “Women are all too often powerless, and the bedroom is a place where they can get some of it back.”

“I heard you tell Leliana that I was good at following directions.” The sharpness had spread from his tone to his posture now, a brittle hurt she wasn’t entirely sure how to soothe. She opted for the truth.

“I also told her I like it when you have your own ideas,” she said.

He relaxed somewhat, and Kentha found it suddenly much easier to breathe. His anger was as overwhelming as his kindness, and now she understood why he worked so hard to keep it under control. His life had depended on it, but it stood simmering despite his best efforts.

“I don’t mind, you know,” he said. He reached for her, and pulled her against his shoulder. “I like to make you happy.”

“I’m sorry I was so forward,” Kentha said, resting her cheek on the soft linen of his tunic. “I hope you know that I would have withdrawn the offer had you showed the slightest hesitance.”

“I know,” he said. “I’m not sure of much these days, but I am always sure of you.”

She could have left it there, but it wasn’t done, and it was her nature to push.

“To answer your other questions,” she said, “you have made yourself harmless, Alistair. And I know why, but others who meet you do not.”

“I was content as a Warden, you know,” Alistair said. “And I think I might have been content as a Templar, too. Maybe that’s my problem.”

She sat up and looked at him. Here, in the dim light of the tent without his armour and weapons, it was all too easy to imagine the little bastard boy, desperately trying to stay out of the way and cause no trouble, when she knew it was in his nature to push, too. He’d just had to find other ways to do it.

“I just,” he paused, a dark light in his countenance. “I just wanted something for myself. Something that was only ever mine.”

Kentha stood, mindful of the confines of the tent, and shed her gloves. She unbuckled the drakeskin armour. It slid to the floor, and she bent to deal with her boots. He watched her, though she didn’t make a show of it, until she was naked. He leaned forward, ever so slightly, as she knelt before him, and she pulled his tunic over his head.

“Then take it, Grey Warden,” she said.

His kiss was like fire, scorching through her veins as he bit her lip and mercilessly wrapped her hair around his hands to hold her still. She was off-balance, falling forward into him, and he pressed his advantage, turning her and pulling her close to him. His teeth scraped her shoulder to the sensitive part of her neck, and she shuddered in his hold.

His legs were stretched out beside hers, but then he bent his knees and moved, using his feet to spread her thighs and pin her against him. His mouth still at work on her neck, he slid his hands across her breasts, tweaking at her nipples to make her whimper, before turned to his real goal. His palms lingered on her belly for just long enough that she realized his intention, and she couldn’t help the moan that escaped her before he even got where he was going.

He laughed, wild joy at his unmaking of her, and then his fingers reached his target. Her head fell back against his shoulder as he stroked her. It was too much stimulation and not enough pressure, and she was _sure_ he knew it, but with her arms and legs held back she could do nothing but beg him to finish it. In her desperation, she felt his hardness pressing against her behind, and tried to distract him by pushing back.

“Oh no, you don’t,” he hummed against her neck, and moved her forward just enough that she could no longer tempt him thus.

Kentha nearly screamed with frustration as he went back to work between her legs. She was all tinder and no spark. All spark and no flame. All flame and no air.

“Alistair,” she pleaded, and finally, _finally_ he gave her what she wanted.

Her knees could hardly support her, but she went up on them anyway as soon as she realized his intent. She braced her elbows in the moment it took him to untie his trousers, and then he took her. She nearly sobbed with relief at the press of him, at his weight, and then his hands were back on her, as fiercely as she wanted them, and all she could do was endure the relentless demands he made on her body.

She was never entirely sure which one of them came first, possibly they both reached the edge at the same time. When pleasure whited out her vision and sapped the last strength from her arms, his weight fell fully on her, and they both collapsed into the bedroll, utterly spent.

For long minutes, all Kentha could do was breathe. With a groan, Alistair shifted off her, rolling gracelessly to lie on his back. She crawled after him, and lay her head on his chest, listening to the calming of his racing heart.

“I love you,” he said. He always said it then, in that moment, and she never doubted him, even though she had yet to say it back.

Instead, she pressed a kiss against his sternum, and lay still as his hands threaded gently into her hair. Everything else could wait until morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Also, I think this is a series now? I think there are three more. I am almost done the game, anyway, and, uh, I have some feelings.


End file.
